


Reconnecting

by JadedFalling



Series: Missing Scenes [1]
Category: Limitless (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Friends reconnecting, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Mild Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP, Restaurants, So probably, does nzt count though?, over a drug, there's a handjob in a restaurant bathroom, unsanitary sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedFalling/pseuds/JadedFalling
Summary: A missing scene of Brian and Eli catching up in the restaurant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just got really into Limitless and Brian is precious so here's some smutty-ish ficlet of him, since I believe there's a significant lack. Also, I'm drunk posting this, so it's barely edited. Con-crit is welcome, gushing is loved. Make my day.

_ “Hey, Brian. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you here.” _

Brain stared at Eli. The smile on his face was playful and almost mocking, but it was his eyes that had Brian pausing. They were bright and earnest, but most of all knowing. Brian stared down at the pill Eli had placed on the table.

“A neuroenhancer...” he said slowly before raising his gaze back up to Eli. “Are you on it right now?”

Eli just closed his lips into a smirk. His eyes flickered down and came back up, heated. He swiped the pill off the table into his palm and stood.

“Come with me for a moment,” he said, back to friendly and casual— just a good friend catching up over lunch. “Leave your coat. I don’t want the wait-staff thinking we’ve ditched. I just want to show you something.”

Brian studied him for a long moment, eyes drifting down to Eli’s fist where he held the little clear pill. Eli noticed and slipped his hand into his pants pocket, pulling out an open palm. Brain met his gaze again and curiously stood up, stripping off his outer layers, hanging hoodie and jacket both on the back of his chair. Eli’s smile grew and he turned to lead the way across the floor, winding around tables with purpose. Brian followed him all the way to a small hall area then into the men’s room there.

Eli had left his suit jacket at the table as well as his overcoat and he stood in front of the short row of stalls with his back to Brian, white button-up brighter under the fluorescents of the bathroom lights.

“Do you remember that apartment we shared after we started the band up?” Eli asked and Brian shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Uh, yeah, it was a two room, half-bath piece of shit,” Brian said with a laugh and Eli half-turned toward him, nodding, still smiling.

“We had almost nothing. And most of the money from shows went to buying pot,” Eli stated with a short chuckle. “God, our priorities were fucked.”

Brian shrugged with one shoulder, trying not to let Eli see him falter. His priorities were still fucked, he guessed.

“And that futon, god,” Eli breathed. “Now that was a piece of work.”

He looked down and shook his head.

“Come over here, Brian,” he requested and Brian closed the distance between them in a few short steps. “I really am glad you’re still doing the music thing. You’ve always had a nice voice, and more talent for it than I ever did.”

“Man, I don’t-”

“No, Brian, don’t. Just, don’t.” Eli side-eyed him, annoyed. “I get that you’re genuinely a humble guy, but don’t put yourself down. I know shit’s catching up with you, what with your dad and all.  But you’re good at music. You’re creative, can play guitar, and you have the voice for it.”

Eli gave him a considering look, sweeping from head to foot and then back.

“Actually...” Eli muttered and Brian suddenly found himself flailing, his hands trapped in his pockets.

Eli hooked him around the waist with his arm and Brian was spun into the handicapped stall, shoved and manhandled against the door as it closed. Eli flipped the lock. Brian’s hands were free of his pockets and they had settled up around Eli’s biceps in a loose grip. Eli smirked up at him from their two-inch height difference.

“I’ve always liked your voice,” he breathed, hands working at the fastenings of Brian’s jeans.

“Whoa, wait!” Brian yelped, squeezing his fingers into the flexing muscles of Eli’s arms in shock. He didn’t get to say anything more as Eli practically ripped his zipper down and there was a warm, softer-than-he-remembered hand on his dick. Brian gasped and jerked his head down to look. Eli had one hand slipped into Brian’s black boxer-briefs, curled around him while the other shoved his jeans down over one hip.

And Brian’s dick was definitely interested, his blood rushing down to his groin so quickly it made him a bit light-headed. It had been too fucking long since he’d been touched by another person.

“You’re probably the one of the luckiest sons-of-bitches in this world, Brian,” Eli whispered into his ear, free hand dipping into Brian’s underwear to fondle his balls and draw them out over the waistband. Brian was completely hard and Eli released him to shoved his open jeans down to mid-thigh.

Brain could only pant over the rough treatment, already minimal brain activity fizzling away with arousal.

“You always knew who you were. Never needed to question or second-guess yourself,” Eli continued. His hands, broad palms and spindly fingers, shoved the waistband of Brian’s underwear down over the swell of his ass and gripped.

Brian couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him, head thunking back against the metal of the stall.

“Fuck— Eli!” He gasped and felt teeth at the tender spot under the hinge of his jaw.

“That,” Eli panted. “Always loved the way your voice sounds like this. That night after that failed show and we went back to our shitty apartment and got so fucking high you wouldn’t shut up…couldn’t shut up…”

Eli bit hard into the flesh of Brian’s neck.

Brian’s stomach muscles all jumped and a strangled noise caught in his throat.

“And I edged you for an hour on that crappy futon just… like… this.” Eli’s middle finger slipped between Brian’s cheeks and pressed hard enough against his hole a perfectly manicured fingernail scratched just enough at his rim.

His other hand found Brian’s dick, pressing it up between his abs and a sweaty palm. Eli moved that hand  just enough to stimulate the length and have it twitching out against it. Brian grit his teeth against the frustrated noises he nearly made, trying to remember they were in a public bathroom, in a restaurant, where one meal for him would be the cost equivalent of half a day’s pay.

“You were so sensitive your voice actually cracked and you were begging me.” Eli’s breath was heavy and hot in Brian’s ear. He curled his fingers around Brian’s dick and squeezed just under the head. Brian shouted, hands flying up to desperately grab the top of the stall door.

“Shh,” Eli admonished in opposition to the encouraging way his finger gently rubbed circles around Brian’s asshole. “Don’t want anyone coming in here to investigate. Not now that I’ve got you like this again. You see, Brian, I remember every detail of that night because of NZT. If I wanted to, I could have you uncontrollably babbling like that again, begging me loud enough the cops would be called because everyone would be thinking there was a murder happening in here.”

Brian felt his neck flush in a wave of heat. Eli scraped his thumbnail from the slit of Brian’s dick over the glans to the spot on the underside of the head. Perfect pressure, perfectly slow, a perfect burning line that had Brian’s hips jerking and sobs of air echoing too loudly in the small space between the ceiling and walls.

“Oh god, oh fuck, Eli,” Brian whimpered, on the edge of cumming already.

“I can remember every little thing that gets to you, Brain,” Eli grunted, shoving Brian harder back against the stall door. “How your eyes would glaze over when I was a little rough.”

He dragged his nail over Brian’s hole enough to make it sting. Brian’s arms twitched, all the muscles in them clenching.

“How your legs trembled every time I did this.”

And Eli twisted his hand up Brian’s dick, over the head, smearing precum as he rolled his palm around it. Brian’s legs immediately felt like jelly, shaking as they tried to hold his weight.

“I know exactly how sensitive your hips and nipples are, how your breathing speeds up when you’re about to cum, the noises you make when you do— to the decibel, I could draw - from memory - your face at the exact moment before you let go.”

Brian twisted between the hands on his dick and ass, between the door and Eli, not sure if he wanted this torture to end. They hadn’t fucked around in years, hadn’t even spoken since Eli left the band. Yet here Brian was, body being played well enough he was about to come in five minutes flat.

“Don’t forget to stay quiet,” Eli whispered right into Brian’s ear just as Brian tossed his head back against the stall, Eli massaging his dick like he was coaxing Brian’s orgasm out of it.

“3...2..1”

And Brian was cumming all over himself under his shirt, hard enough he felt cum on his chest. His brain shorted out enough that his ears were filled with white noise and he had no idea if he managed to keep from screaming through his orgasm.

Coming down, he was held against the door by Eli’s hands on his hips. It was the only thing keeping him from the floor as his arms and legs had become completely useless, fingers barely holding onto the edge of the stall. Eli was smirking at him again, dark eyes bright and aroused.

Brian whined and hoped Eli would kiss him, devour Brian’s mouth like he used to when they were too high to care about sensitivity and the taste of cum on their tongues.

Instead, Eli held him until he was less loose-limbed. He did up Brian’s pants for him and carefully cleaned under Brian’s shirt with toilet paper, letting Brian come back down in his own time.

“Shit, our food’s probably cold,” Brian whispered, extremely aware of how hungry he was without pleasure swamping his nervous system. Eli laughed and hugged him.

“Same old Brian.”

He pulled back and smirked deviously again.

“We’ve only been gone eleven minutes, and it took five of those to the second for you cum.”

Brian gaped at his friend, recalling how Eli had been counting down before Brian’s orgasm.

“I think our food’s fine.”

Eli turned the lock and exited the stall, leaving Brian there feeling unsure, amazed, and nervous.

“Just accept the pill, Brian,” Eli called across the small bathroom. “You’re creative enough you can do something amazing with it.”

Then he exited the bathroom, the noises of the restaurant clearly heard before the door clicked shut behind him.

Brian carefully turned his shirt inside-out in the front to check for cum. Not a single drop was on the material.

How the fuck had Eli managed that?


End file.
